Pinch Yourself Harder, You're Only Dreaming
by DD Agent
Summary: Jenny is kidnapped and tortured, forced into a nightmare world that only Jethro can rescue her from.
1. Author's Notes

**Pinch Yourself Harder, You're Only Dreaming by DD Agent**

I'm using a whole entry for authors notes because I think it is appropriate and this fic does deserve a preface. Because this is definitely the most conceptual thing I have ever written, and could possibly be the next milestone in my writing career. Not the pinacle, not the plateau. Because I have more excellence to come, I hope.

Btw this is the fic I mentioned randomly back at the end of October that I have just got around to finishing.

"Pinch Yourself Harder" started off as a Halloween prompt by the absolutely fantastic calliatra. I started to plan bits and pieces and became intrigued by the idea of Jenny going through what the kids in _Nightmare in Elm Street _do when they refrain from sleep to escape their nightmares. As the idea built, _Inception _came into it. Just to make it clear - this fic is not a crossover. There are no totems, there are sadly no kicks. There is no man with knives for fingers [although there is a reference]. This is inspired by _Nightmare, Inception_ and Stephen King's _Rose Red_. I hope what I have created in my head has translated well on the page.

When thinking about how to post this fic, it was suggested that I post separate chapters. But after lex_shepard read through the whole story, she agreed that it had to be posted as one to truly be understood. This story is constructed in four parts. _Goodnight _acts as a prologue, _Counting Sheep _is part one, _REM Sleep _is part two and _Sleep Tight _is the epilogue. The summary is a very vague description of the depth of this fic as it is so more complex than a one line summary.

As a warning, I should inform you this story contains swearing, scenes of torture, scenes of a disturbing nature and scenes of a sexual nature.

Anyway. I hope you read this fic, I hope you enjoy it. I want to thank calliatra, vegawriters and lex_shepard for their assistance in making this fic possible.

Enjoy, and sweet dreams.

Kelly [DD Agent]


	2. Goodnight

**Pinch Yourself Harder, You're Only Dreaming by DD Agent**

_**I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS**_

_Good Night_

Jenny Shepard didn't want to go to sleep. The little girl sat on her window sill and looked out onto the garden, watched as the stars twinkled overhead. It was a beautiful night, and as she clutched her rabbit tighter Jenny wanted to go outside. She wasn't afraid of the dark, she was afraid of her nightmares.

"All little princesses should be in bed by now."

The tiny redhead looked up from her windowsill and saw that her grandfather was in the doorway. She rushed from the window and buried herself in his chest. He wrapped the ends of his wool dressing gown around his little granddaughter and looked down at her. She was perfect, wide green eyes and a smile as wide as the ocean.

Jonathon Shepard picked up the little bundle in his arms and carried her to the rocking chair in the corner of her bedroom. Jenny's little head rested against his chest, and Jonathon could see tears pinpricking her eyes. He had hated to see his son cry as a child, and seeing his granddaughter do so broke his heart.

"What's wrong poppet?"

Jenny wiped her face with her hands and looked up at her grandfather. He was still going to be here for a week, it wasn't as if she was worried about her grandparents leaving her. She was getting on perfectly well at school, and her father was back from the war. He didn't know why she was so sad.

"I don't want to go to sleep. I have nightmares."

Jonathon bounced Jenny on his knee. "What sort of nightmares?"

"Monsters. And…" Jenny looked up at him with those big green eyes, her red fringe in them. She needed a haircut, if her mother could catch her for long enough to make her sit still. She was a little hurricane. She bit her lip and her little hand tightened around his striped pyjamas. "Sometimes Daddy doesn't come back."

He didn't need to know what to say to her. There was always a huge risk with Jasper's work that he wouldn't come back at all. But Jonathon also knew that Jasper would go through hell and back to see his daughter. She was everything to him.

"What happens in your nightmares, Jenny?"

She clung onto him tighter, and Jonathon began to rock in his chair. It was a soothing motion, and he could see the little girls eyelids start to droop. Jenny's words came out in a faint whisper. "A man comes to the door, he gives Mommy a letter. Sometimes he comes home and we're playing, and he gets shot by a nasty man. Sometimes he-"

"Hush, child," Jonathon whispered, kissing Jenny on her forehead. "Your Daddy will be with you for many years to come. No matter what, he will always come back to you. If you're ever scared, pinch yourself and you'll wake up. And your Daddy will come running."

Jonathon looked down to see that Jenny had fallen asleep against his chest. He could lift her up and put her back under her covers, then return to the guest bedroom and join his wife in slumber. But Jonathon was just happy to watch his perfect little granddaughter sleep happily against him.


	3. Counting Sheep

_Trouble Sleeping? _

_Let's count some sheep. _

_One_

"And our last presentation is by Abigail Sciuto, a forensic specialist with NCIS."

Abby stood up to the podium, looking presentable for the day. The pigtails were gone; instead she had left her hair down. The suit she was wearing was a plain black one. They had all been wearing black recently. Abby took the stage, her hands shaking as she looked towards the screen in front of her.

"I've come here to talk to you today about the drug known by classified military circles as REM 24," Abby put her notes down on the table. She needed to get herself together. She could see her peers in the audience looking up in confusion. She was supposed to be there talking about her speciality in blood splatter. But this drug seemed to be her new speciality.

Her first presentation slide came up on the screen. "REM 24 was a drug developed as part of biological warfare used in interrogation. It was not supposed to be used for mainstream use, but only as a method of torture. REM 24 is a powerful anaesthetic, knocking out the subject instantly. But this drug has only one purpose; it is used as part of psychological interrogation for which there is no escape."

Abby put up a slide about the drugs compounds. "In recent years, scientists have made great strides in knowing how the brain works, how we process information. In recent years, scientists have been looking at what makes our nightmares, and what makes our dreams. Two years ago, a group of scientists working for the Pentagon managed to tailor a drug that would hack in to a person's brain and cause powerful nightmares while they were unconscious."

The group in the audience looked interested. There had been rumours, and after an entire batch had been stolen it had been made public knowledge. But this was the first time anyone was getting the details of it.

"It shares similarities with LSD, only it's more specialised. The drug was stolen a year ago and was redeveloped by a drug cartel. If catered to a particular persons brain patterns, then the drug enhances a dream world that the subject can control. As a recreational drug, it has huge potential. Unfortunately, the drug was then stolen by a terrorist group who used it as a method of torture for several of their prisoners they had kidnapped for leverage."

Abby's hands started to shake as she pressed the next slide. "Director Jennifer Shepard was kidnapped by the American Freedom Initiative six months ago. She was rescued by Federal Agents four days later, but during her capture she underwent severe torture with the drug. A sixth of a syringe lasts for four hours. The AFI kept upping Director Shepard's dose until she was under the influence for over twelve hours."

She switched the slide as quick as she could away from the picture of Jenny. "Twelve hours in a nightmare world. Time means nothing. It is the most powerful form of biological warfare ever created. But the most interesting thing about the drug is its malleable construction. Once you've established someone's brain patterns into the drug then you can enter their dream world."

Someone raised their hand in the front row. Abby looked over her notes to see the person. "Yes?"

"Has it ever been attempted?"

_Two_

"Jethro are you sure about this?"

Jethro rolled up his sleeve and laid down on the metal slab. On the next one, hooked up to a heart monitor, was Jenny. She looked so pale, her body was so frail. He should have seen this coming, should have been more aware of what was going on with her. He should have been there for her dammit!

He was going to be now.

"Never been sure about anything more in my entire life." He turned towards Abby, who was crying. "No tears, Abs. Not now. You got the syringe?"

The Goth turned to him shaking her head. In her hand was the drug that had caused so much trouble in the first place. "Gibbs, I'm not sure about this."

Ducky nodded, agreeing with the young scientist. "Jethro, this is a risk! We should be taking Jenny to a hospital, not watching her here. She's overdosed on this drug, we have no idea what could be happening in her head!"

Jethro leaned up and looked over at his former partner, lover. Her eyeballs were moving rhythmically behind her eyelids, deep in REM sleep. Her lip kept trembling, her fingers moving of their own accord. She was stuck in a nightmare world, and the amount of the drug she had taken meant she wasn't going to come out of it unless her mind did. That was all he knew about the science. The only other thing he needed to know was that Jenny was in pain.

"I need to do this, Duck. I need to get her out of this."

Ducky swallowed and put an elastic band around Jethro's arm, drawing out the vein. Abby moved over him, placing the heart monitor over his chest. She looked so terrified.

"Jethro, you are going to be stepping into Jennifer's mind. The drug is tailored to her brain chemistry; she'll be able to control the world around you. Be careful."

He nodded and leant back on the table. Abby, still in tears, gave him a kiss on the cheek. "This dose should put you in for four hours, and that's it. Four hours in this time to get her out, if you can. There's been no human studies on how addictive this stuff is, Gibbs! I can't let you go under again; this is your one shot."

Leroy Jethro Gibbs nodded and reached over for Jenny Shepard's hand. "Do it."

His world went black with the prick of the needle.

_Three_

"You going somewhere?"

Jenny had opened her door that evening to find Gibbs on her doorstep. He looked upset, even more so at the sight of the suitcase in her hand. Not that it was any of his business, but she was off to London to see her grandfather. She felt, after the situation with the Frog had finally come to its inevitable conclusion, that she should see the last member of her family she was in contact with.

"Do you care?"

Jethro moved inside the door, barrelling past her. He knocked her suitcase out of her hand, and Jenny cursed him. "Of course I care, Jen. Just not sure what is going on in your head. I come back from Mexico and you've changed."

She scoffed and picked up her suitcase again. She didn't need this crap from him, she needed her space. Jenny couldn't deal with looking down into the bullpen and seeing his disappointment. She couldn't cope with arguing in MTAC and watching that look in his eye that almost bordered on hate. That was where they had ended up. Love had gone, replaced by bitterness that neither one of them could cope with.

"We all change, Jethro. We all have our little vendettas in the world. The only difference is no one died while I tackled mine."

He slammed her against the wall, knocking the air out of her lungs. She was thinner than she had been when she had taken the job of Director. She had been consuming more bourbon than food as she had hunted her prize. But it didn't matter to Jethro; they weren't the same people from Paris anymore.

"You killed a man in revenge. Put Tony in danger. Just because no one took a sniper round to the head doesn't make your vendetta better than mine."

She pushed into his shoulder where a fresh scar was. "Gerald still needed physical therapy."

"You need _actual_ therapy. Tell me, have you thought of anything else since your father died than getting his killer?"

Jenny was tired of this. She was tired of feeling fragile, of feeling like she had a hole in the middle of her soul. She pulled Jethro down by his collar and pushed her tongue into his mouth. He replied with gusto, slamming her against the wall and digging his hands under her jeans. The kiss was brutal, teeth tore at lips and hands bruised skin.

"Just you."

_Four_

Jenny looked in the mirror, the only mirror in her entire house that wasn't cracked. Her red hair was limp around her ears, the colour drained out of her face. There were bags under her eyes, her lips were cracked. Her skin felt oily, her eyes were weak. Her hands shook as she undid the pill bottle to take her fourth and fifth pills of the day. Anything to keep her awake. Coffee wasn't doing it anymore.

Still in front of the mirror, she began to undress. Her fingers fumbled over her shirt until it was eventually pulled away from her skin. Two of them were still bound together from the hospital, healing after they had been broken in her initial capture. The thin t-shirt she had worn under the expensive blouse made her look gaunt. She pulled it off with what little strength she had.

Looking in the mirror, Jenny poked at the ribs under her skin. She could feel the bone as she breathed in and out. The bruises from the initial beating were still black. Crying, Jenny reached behind and pulled down her bra straps. She had lost so much weight; she had gone down a cup size or two. There were scratch marks over the top of her chest made by her own nails. The scars made by her own nightmares would never fade from her arms.

Reaching for her waistband, Jenny undid the button on her jeans and let the fabric fall over her legs. She didn't have thighs anymore. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. Couldn't remember the last time she had drunk anything either. Bourbon made her gag, and she could dry swallow the pills now.

Jenny stood in front of the mirror in just her underwear, not recognising herself. She slammed her fist into the mirror, the shards crashing over her already broken body.

_Five_

Melvin was driving the car to the airport. She had an eight o'clock flight out of Dulles Airport to Heathrow. Her Grandfather, back in the country after doing god knows what, was awaiting her arrival. She hadn't seen him in years; she wondered how he looked after all this time. Hopefully well, Jenny didn't like the idea of him getting old. His age had never stopped his work with MI5.

"You sure you don't need us in London, Director?"

Jenny smiled as she wrapped up the last few case files before her departure. A new terrorist group had recently begun making waves. The American Freedom Initiative - a bunch of mentalists who were trying to claim back the country for good Christian and American values. Jenny had no doubt that Leon could cope with these crackpots while she was visiting family.

"I'll be fine, thank you Melvin. I'm sure I can take care of myself, and if not I'll talk to the London Field Office."

She watched his smile in the rear view mirror. "Yes ma'am."

They drove round to the back of the airport, Jenny putting her last few case files in her briefcase. Two weeks away with her grandfather - she couldn't wait. She was hoping he could help her. Ever since she had put a bullet in the head of Rene Benoit, she had been having the most awful nightmares. Guilt, even though in her heart she knew that bastard deserved it. He had taken everything from her.

The car was parked, and Melvin opened a door to get her luggage while the other agent in the car with them - Tom - moved out to open hers. As Tom's door slammed shut, Jenny heard a cry outside the car and a scuffle. She waited in the tinted car, pulling out her gun and aiming it at Tom's side. But they came from both sides, masked men who slammed her against the car seats to knock her out and kidnap her.

She tore through flesh and managed to shoot one of them in the head before she was thrown down to the concrete of the car park and the entire world crashed into broken pieces.

_Six_

"So, Jenny. How have you been coping?"

Jenny looked from the window to the staff psychiatrist sitting in her comfortable leather chair and notepad on her lap. She had that sympathetic face that her mother had always had on when Jenny had come home with skinned knees and had cried into her soup because her Daddy was away. But there was no quick fix to this. She had been ripped from her senses and lived in a permanent state of nightmares for what had felt like years. There was no quick fix cure.

"Fine, given the circumstances."

The psychiatrist - Jenny didn't even want to know her name - smiled at her. She probably wrote something on her pad like 'denial' or 'suicidal'. Jenny didn't care what she thought; she just wanted to get back to work as quickly as she could. There was nothing for her at home, all she could do there was read or sleep. And her head was not a good place to be in at the moment. She constantly felt like screaming.

"Have you been thinking about the abuse support groups I suggested?"

Jenny put on a fake smile of her own. "I've considered it, but I'm not sure if I would be in the right place. And there is a confidentiality aspect to consider - I'm the Director of a Federal Agency…" _For__the__moment._"And the drug that was put through my system is illegal biological warfare."

The psychiatrist nodded, and turned to her pad. The smile was gone, instead replaced by a sympathetic frown. "Jenny, do you think that maybe the reason you don't want to go to one of the support groups is because you don't believe you're addicted?"

She didn't like this woman at all. She wasn't fucking addicted; her body was in withdrawal from a drug that was forced into her system as a form of torture. She had been abused, her mind had been ripped to shreds and it had _never_been her choice. She wasn't fucking addicted. Even if her hands were shaking.

"I haven't required the drug to survive the day to day processes of my job since my…ordeal. I don't believe I'm addicted."

_Seven_

When Jenny Shepard awoke, it was with a golf ball on her skull and pieces of glass embedded into her skin. Her hands were bound to a metal gurney in what looked like an abandoned meat factory. She could feel the cold of the freezer all over her skin. Her mouth was so dry, and her eyes felt like they had been prized open.

There was a man in a lab coat standing by a serious of brutal medical instruments. Jenny knew better than to whimper, but she needed that vocal release. Her heart was pounding so much she could feel her pulse bulging against the restraints.

"Good, you're finally awake," the man greeted and shone a light into her eyes. Jenny felt like throwing up. "Don't worry, Director Shepard. I won't do any physical harm to you. You're more here for leverage and to play guinea pig."

Jenny coughed. "What?"

She couldn't get a handle on her surroundings; she had been out for so long she didn't even know what day it was yet alone where they were. How long had it been since she had left Jethro sleeping in her bed?

The man checked her pulse and made a note on a piece of paper. "Our government has been developing a drug to use in interrogations of terrorists. No one knew about it until one of our lower level sleepers was interrogated with it." He smiled. "Completely rips apart your psychological state, apparently. Of course, as typical of our government, it wasn't very hard to steal it off them."

Jenny shook her head, still wondering what was going on. Rips apart your psychological state? She didn't like the sound of that. She was already precariously on the edge; her nightmares were becoming more vivid. She was sleeping deeper; she was finding it hard to wake up every morning. She tried to break out of her bonds, but Jenny couldn't. She was so weak.

"We couldn't find any documentation on it, any clinical trials. Would be typical that they would just go ahead and use it without discovering any side effects, the right dosage…" The man prepared a syringe and released the air pressure. "So while my colleagues at the AFI barter for more rights for your life, I get to find out what this miracle drug does to you."

She tried to break against her bonds. The man wrapped a rag around her mouth, choking her with the metallic taste of blood and grease. A tear dripped down Jenny's face. She had been captured before, tortured yes. But this was something that truly terrified her. Before, she could always retreat to her mind and think about Jethro, about happier times working at NCIS. This was something completely different.

"I'm sorry about the gag, but I don't want you screaming too loud. Because you _will_be screaming. Let's start the stop watch then, shall we?"

She screamed against the gag as the needle went into her arm.

_Eight_

Jethro sat outside the hospital room, looking over into the small glass window as Ducky examined Jenny after her ordeal. _Four __days _it had taken them. _Four __fucking __days_. God knows what they had been doing to Jenny. He didn't want to think about it. He just downed the last of his coffee and crushed the plastic cup in his hand. They were all dead. He still had their blood on his hands.

His cheek was still torn where Jenny had scratched him as he had tried to rescue her.

What the fuck had they been doing to her in there?

Finally Ducky came out of the small room and turned to Jethro. It didn't look good. He took the seat next him, leaving Jenny to herself in the small hospital room.

"She has some serious bruising on her chest, Jethro, possibly some internal bleeding. We've scheduled some scans to see what's going on in her chest, but it looks mostly exterior," Ducky swallowed. "It doesn't appear like she was raped."

Jethro let out the breath he was holding, and squeezed his hands tight against each other. This wasn't like when she had been kidnapped the last time - this had been brutal, vicious. This has been all about pain. His one worry seeing Jenny as she tried to tear out his throat was that she had been raped, that they had used her as a piece of meat. The knowledge that it hadn't occurred made his chest feel lighter.

"There is some extensive damage to her throat and arms, Jethro. Her nails are all bleeding, torn. Her arms are in a vicious state - I think she was tearing at them. There are track marks as well on her arms, Jethro. They were injecting something into her."

He looked up at his old friend. "The narcotic being developed? The one used in interrogation?"

Ducky sighed. "I'm not sure, Jethro. Considering its known they stole REM 24, it seems likely. I tried asking for notes on the drug, but there weren't any clinical trials. A tox screen is on its way, I'll be able to see how much of the drug has been in Jenny's system. By the looks of those marks, Jethro…she was under the influence of it for quite some time."

"Will she be okay?"

Ducky looked at the door of the hospital room and shook his head. "I don't think she will be, Jethro. The Jenny in that room is very different. Hollow. If only we had found her sooner…"

_Nine_

"Show me the video again, McGee."

Tim McGee looked at his boss with fearful eyes before clicking the button on his computer that would play the video again. The team and the Assistant Director looked up at the MTAC screen where they saw the terrorists yelling about their demands, and their flame haired Director shaking in the background.

Jethro could only watch it for so long. He could see Jenny's gag in her mouth, could see the pain carved into her face. "Can we get any details from the video, McGee?"

He shook his head. "I'm trying to see if I can track where they sent the video, but they've covered their tracks well."

He nodded, trying not to throw a chair at Tim to make him work faster. It wasn't his fault that someone had kidnapped Jenny. It wasn't his fault that they were _torturing_her. Leon gave him a sympathetic glance, one he wasn't sure that he deserved. They both turned to DiNozzo.

"What can you tell me about the AFI?"

Tony pulled his eyes away from the screen and turned to the file that he had managed to dig up on the relatively new terrorist group. "AFI stand for American Freedom Initiative. They're a group of patriotic militants who basically hate anyone who is not white, born in America and believes in God. They're not big fans of Government, believing everything to be a conspiracy theory."

Ziva nodded. "They were linked to a bomb in a mall that was disabled in time last month. The CIA picked one of their men up and interrogated him using a new technique."

Jethro looked from Jenny's snarled body on the video to Ziva. "New technique?"

Leon moved from standing to sitting in one of the chairs in MTAC. He looked over to Gibbs and rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face. "A new drug has been developed to assist in breaking suspects. It puts the subject in a deep, brutal sleep. It affects REM sleep."

"Nightmares?"

Tony let out a low chuckle. "Doctor Kruger behind this?"

Jethro had to resist smacking Tony. This wasn't a laughing matter. _Jenny _was kidnapped, being tortured. They needed to find her and soon. People could only hold out for so long. "This drug…where is it now?"

Leon coughed, looking up at Gibbs with an expression he knew all too well. It meant that hell was on its way. "The drug was stolen from the lab eleven months ago. The government have been trying to keep it quiet, locate the drug before it got into the general public and was used for recreation. According to Intel, the AFI stole it from a drug cartel soon after their man escaped from custody."

Jethro looked back up at the screen as McGee played the video again. He hoped to _God_that they weren't using this drug on his Jenny.

_Ten _

Her eyes were torn open. Her arms felt like they were burning. She threw up on the side of the gurney, the restraints loosened. As she spat bile on the floor, she let out a strangled cry.

Jenny Shepard looked around. She was back to the meat factory. She collapsed against the metal slab, crying. She didn't want to appear brave or stoic anymore. She just wanted to scream.

The man returned to the picture. He was noting something down on his clipboard. He shone a light into her eyes again, checked her pulse. It was racing. Jenny wasn't bound anymore. She could easily reach up and kick the man in the chest, put her arms around his throat. But she was so weak, so tired. Her body felt clammy, her clothes were slick with sweat. She knew she should fight, but Jenny was just so happy to be back into the real world, even if it was still torture.

"Very interesting. A sixth of a syringe does four hours. You were out for four hours, Director." The man put a cold flannel over her forehead. Jenny cried out in relief at the feeling of something so cold. "Can you tell me anything about what you experienced during those four hours?"

Jenny licked her lips, trying to put into words what it was like. Instead she just whimpered, pressing her mouth against the cool slab. Her body was cooling now, making the sweat slide against her skin. She felt dirty, broken.

"Director?" The man slapped her in the face, blood trickling down her cheek. "I'm sorry, but I really need to know what you experienced."

"_Nightmares_."

The man made a note against his clipboard and dabbed at her skin again. Jenny looked down and saw that she had four half moon shapes bleeding against her palm. One of her wrists was brutally scratched, like she had been trying to dig the veins out of her skin. She felt brutalised, exhausted. She just wanted to _die_.

"Now in the good method of all experiments, I'm going to try and see what a third of a syringe does to your mind," the man told her. Jenny whimpered again, but found she could barely make words. "My colleagues aren't very happy that your people aren't coming through with what they want. They want to beat you around, but thankfully I just told them I would remove the gag."

He pushed the air out of the syringe and turned to her. She couldn't fight him if she tried.

"Sweet dreams, Director."

_Eleven_

He was a former biochemist who was now working for high end drug cartels. She was a high end lawyer who had heard about a new party drug that she wanted to try. Jenny was not stupid - she was wearing blue contacts and a black wig was hiding her red hair. With bright red lipstick and a low cut dress she didn't even look like her.

"You sure about this?" Jenny asked as James ran her through the last of the brain scans he needed.

He made notes, his brown hair falling into his eyes. He looked harmless, was very intelligent. But he was currently asking for ten thousand dollars for one single syringe of the drug. Jenny didn't care how much it would cost her to get it, she needed a fix. She had tried to go cold turkey, she really had. But it was now becoming painfully aware that although her mind didn't want the nightmares, that even the idea of closing her eyes made her weep, her body craved the fix of the drug.

"Of course I'm sure. Believe me, once I tailor this drug into your brain patterns it'll be a fucking ride."

Jenny moved from the machines into one of his comfy chairs. Her legs were spread apart, and James looked at her with a glint in his eye. He wanted her. He disgusted her. She was just here so she could do her fucking job, so she could _live_. He would get his money, she would get her syringe. Just a two hour hit would do her; a tiny bit of the drug would be enough to sustain her body, to keep her going without sleeping pills.

"What are you talking about?" Jenny whispered. She knew this drug. It was bitter, rough. It was torment in a vial. There was no ride, just pain. And yet she craved it.

James grinned as he put in the relevant data to his computer and turned to her. "This drug taps into your mind, makes you aware of your subconscious. If you tailor it directly to someone's head, then they can access entire levels of memory. Dreams are like video games - damn cool but someone else is playing you. This changes everything."

Jenny looked over his calculations. Mindless noise to her. She just needed that hit. Her hands were shaking so much she had to hide them under her jacket. "Sounds fun," she spat.

"You have no fucking idea."

_Twelve_

"BOSS!"

Jethro turned around from staring out of the window and turned to where Tony was yelling for him. No one had slept in the four days since Jenny had been kidnapped, no one _dared_. Everyone should be focussed on finding Jenny and keeping her alive. If she was still alive.

"What is it DiNozzo?"

Tony waved a piece of paper in his face. "Boss, I got a lead."

He pushed away from the window and moved over into their area. Four days without a lead. McGee hadn't been able to crack the video. The CIA wouldn't give up their AFI sources. The Government didn't negotiate with terrorists. All the while, his Jenny was being tortured.

"Speak, DiNozzo, before I offer you as a trade."

He didn't care if he was being a more miserable bastard than usual. He was more concerned with seeing his lover alive again. Tony took his cue and put something up on the screen. "A biochemist called Carl Gorton went missing three years ago. His sister was killed in 9/11 and since then Gorton had become severely anti-America. He had ties to two of the members we know of AFI - Brandon Hicks and Charles Barnes."

Tony brought the man up on the screen, but Jethro didn't see how he was relevant. He was a single man, a single man in a sea of others who could be raping or ripping apart his Jenny. He hadn't felt like this since Paris, and he didn't like it. He was too close to losing complete control.

"Boss, before you headslap me into the next century - Gorton's father used to own a meat packing plant in Virginia. It was shut down two years ago, but apparently it's being renovated. At least that's the official line, according to the neighbour's - people and equipment have been coming in for quite some time."

That was it. After four long, painful days of his imagination in overdrive, they finally had a lead. "Get a tactical team ready, we go in within the hour."

His team nodded and headed away to prepare. Jethro turned towards the picture of the plant and offered up a silent prayer. _Hold __on, __Jenny. __We're __coming __for __you._

_Thirteen_

"That was a fascinating lecture, Ms Sciuto."

Abby looked up from her papers to see one of her peers smiling at her. He looked familiar somehow, but Abby just couldn't place him. She shrugged it off and turned back to her work. "Thank you."

The man coughed. "Do you know the rate of addiction for the drug? Obviously once some drugs enter the system it's easier to become hooked on them."

Abby's hands stilled. Everyone had seen how the Director had changed since she had been tortured. It was hard to miss her hands shake, her drastic weight loss. The way she popped caffeine pills and drank more coffee than Gibbs. She was running away from her subconscious, and Abby knew it was going to be breaking point soon. The Goth only hoped that Gibbs managed to pull her back from the edge.

"The Government needs to do proper tests on the drug, but at the moment they're still trying to control it. It's too high end for complete public immersion, so the rich are paying through the nose to control their own dreams. If its tailored right, of course."

The man nodded and rested his hand against his face. "Have there been many cases of it not being tailored?"

"Several people have been put into a mental institution because they overdose. Their brain just shuts down. Some die, some go into a coma. The lucky ones become a vegetable."

Abby watched as the man rested a hand over her files. "It's incredible what our government will create to use as methods of torture, isn't it?"

It was then that Abby realised who she was dealing with. The pen slipped out of her hand and was forced down into his almost instantly. McGee had been in the back row and could see that something was wrong with who she was talking to. Gorton's face - the only one who hadn't been there when the raid had gone down on the packing plant - had been forced in all of their minds.

"Tell me, did you come here to gloat about completely destroying a woman?"

Gorton grimaced in pain. "I only used the drug. I didn't create it."

"I thought you'd say that."

Abby twisted the pen deeper into his hand.

_Fourteen_

She didn't know why her father was in her staff meeting, but Jenny Shepard knew it was good to see him. He looked well; Ducky had done a nice job patching him up so the gunshot wound didn't show. He was looking at Jethro strangely, but Jenny knew that was how all fathers were supposed to treat their daughter's boyfriends. Even though Jethro wasn't technically her boyfriend anymore.

"Okay, well I think that's everything. Enjoy your weekend, everyone."

Her head members of staff left, apart from Jethro. Her father was examining her drinks cabinet. Jenny ignored Jethro and moved over to her desk where she pulled out one of her drawers and took out a bottle of pills. They were supposed to keep her awake, and they were doing a wonderful job. She couldn't actually remember when she had slept last. Six, maybe seven days ago?

"You okay, Jen?"

Her father smiled at her and pulled out a bottle of scotch she didn't even know she had in there. Jenny nodded at Jethro and pulled out three glasses. It was time Jethro met her father anyway, especially considering she was planning to ask him to dinner. She was mad at him for some reason, although she couldn't remember why in that very moment. Something to bring up over dinner perhaps.

"Fine, Jethro, absolutely fine."

He coughed and took the offered glass of scotch. She passed one to her father, who picked it up and drank it before putting it back in the same place. Jenny took hers and swallowed her pills down with the alcohol. Her smile was electric.

"Maybe you should go see Ducky, Jen. I'm worried about you. Really worried."

Jenny shrugged and sat down at her desk. Silly Jethro, always worrying when there was really no need. "I'm fine, Jethro. Maybe _you _should go see Ducky. You look pale."

She didn't notice her hands shaking, or the tears running down her cheeks as her plastered smile was directed at her father who was raising his glass to her.

_Fifteen_

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Jenny looked up from her bedroom chest of drawers to see that not only had Jethro broken into her house, but was currently standing in her doorway. She resisted the urge to push him up against the doorframe and let him have her. She didn't have the energy for much, but she needed some sort of release.

"Every day, Jethro," she turned and smiled at him. "Gotta get my make up right. Now, is there anything else you came for or am I going to have to turf you out?"

Jethro cursed and Jenny moved over to her bed. The t-shirt she was wearing was so damn baggy; her wrists were almost too frail to hold the cup of tea that would hopefully make her calm. She wasn't going to sleep, the pills she had taken made her more alert than ever. But she enjoyed the ritual of going to bed.

"Jen…when was the last time you ate something?" Jethro asked, deciding to press into the bedroom. He looked towards her bedside table, could see the small pharmacy there intended to keep her awake and from her nightmares. The drug was out of her system, but the nightmares remained.

Jenny shrugged. "I can't remember. I remember you finished your case, I remembered I had a budget meeting with the SecNav. Really, is there anything more important?"

He pushed onto the bed and tilted her chin up. He could see the blood vessels in her eyes, could see the bags under them. He could feel how rough her skin was, how she looked half dead. "When was the last time you _slept_?"

"I can't remember. I don't want to sleep." Jenny moved one hand to his collar, tracing the edge of his polo shirt. She didn't even have the energy to kiss him. She was so weak, putting all the energy she had into staying awake. But her body was craving some form of release and she couldn't even manage to push her hands between her legs. "If you're not going to fuck me, then leave. I have work to do."

He left. She couldn't even summon up the tears she felt she required.

_Sixteen_

Time had lost all meaning for her. She didn't know what day of the week it was, couldn't even remember the year. Sometimes, when she was out of the nightmare world, she couldn't even remember her name. The man, he called her Director. That was her name, or her title…she wasn't sure. If it was her name, she was going to hurt her parents.

"Short periods seem to work best for this drug," the man announced to her as he patted her down with cold water.

She briefly remembered starting this journey on a gurney, but that had long since been replaced with a cold metal floor. The men swimming around her with guns and black clothes looked at her and smiled. They enjoyed her screaming, enjoyed her tearing at her body. Her nails were nonexistent, the manicure she had got only a few days ago completely pointless. Sometimes she woke up from the nightmare world and knew exactly who she was and what she had done her entire life. The longer periods, the longer times he put her under she didn't know a single thing. She couldn't even say words.

"It does get a little tiresome after a while, hearing you scream in your sleep," the man told her as he moved the flannel away. "So after they've played with you for a little while I'm going to give you another four part dose. I tried to keep you just on the drug, but they really want to be the cause of your screams. Add to your nightmares. Wonderful drug that it is."

She tried to curl herself up into a ball as a few men advanced on her. She was curled up like a dead woodlouse, an insect to be stamped on. Their boots went into her chest, kicking her in the stomach. She tried to scream but there was not enough moisture in her mouth for anything to come out. One foot connected with her cheek, and Jenny spilled blood onto the tiled floor. She wished for the drug, she wished to be back in her head. It wasn't physical pain. She was too weak for the bruises they were creating on her.

She licked her lips and tried to think about something, anything. When she couldn't remember her own name, couldn't remember why the nightmares came the way they did, there was always something. One little part of her identity.

The fury of their blows came quick until the man waved them off and she craved the sting of the drug in her system.

"_Jethro__…_"

_Seventeen_

"JENNY!"

Jethro was in ecstasy. He knew he shouldn't be, knew he shouldn't let himself be manipulated as he was. But screw it; he was enjoying being fucked by Jenny too much. It had been in Paris, the last time they had made love. Now they were older, wiser….craving each other desperately. The suitcase was still downstairs; he knew she would probably leave him in bed to head home to her grandfather. But he didn't care; he was just focussed on her.

She was on top of him, riding him. He was gripping onto her hips, watching her breasts rise and fall with the movement of their bodies. She was covered in sweat, her hair was sticking to her neck and her lips were ruby red. She looked devilish. She was his.

He shifted his hips, forcing her to groan. He could feel her orgasm building, knew all the signs. He gripped onto her hands, pulling her down to the bed with him. He wanted her close to him, wanted this to be more than just sex.

She kissed him as she came. Jethro toppled over the edge from that single kiss, and the force of it all.

"You're mine, all mine."

_Eighteen_

They had let her go home, but Jenny had just snuck out and left. She didn't want to go home, didn't want to sit there and feel sorry for herself in an empty house. So she had snuck out of the back door and walked to the office. Time didn't matter, she didn't care who was out there in the world to kill her. Nothing could compare to what she had just gone through.

Her ID and retina scanned through the Navy Yard. She walked upwards, her body shoved in a pair of gym shorts and Jethro's old NIS t-shirt - all they could bring for her to change in to from her ruined suit. The sneakers she wore were kicked off. She could go up to her office, get out her bottle of bourbon and stare out onto DC like she had done many times before. But she had another coping mechanism.

Jenny picked the lock on Jethro's drawer and pulled out his bottle of bourbon and a tumbler. She sat on what was now Ziva's chair and rested against it, wondering when things had so changed for her. When her nightmares had become so terrifying. She sipped the drink and started to cry, wondering when truly she had become so alone.

_Nineteen _

Blind fury. That was what he unleashed on the men who had taken Jenny. The NCIS agents moved through the meat packing plant like a plague, shooting anyone who they came in contact with. They only had one hostage to rescue, a redheaded woman who he, at least, would die for.

The door to the back room had been left open and as Gibbs stormed in he could see the blood of an AFI member down on the floor. Someone had escaped. They would find out whom. Looking around, Jethro caught sight of some red hair on the floor. His heart caught in his throat as he moved over to see if it was her.

_Jenny_.

He knelt down to check her pulse and practically screamed in joy as he found one beating softly against her neck.

_Twenty_

She found the vein in her arm. Her brain wanted her to reconsider, to really think about what she was doing. But Jenny couldn't care less, she was just focussed on that rush, that energy that she needed. She couldn't survive on no sleep anymore, and her body craved the drug that had been pumped into her. So she was doing this. She needed this. She didn't need anything else.

Jenny pushed the syringe up a little to release the air caught in it. She couldn't remember how much to put in her arm, how long it would last. Her brain was fuzzy from the lack of sleep. But soon everything would be okay.

The sting of the needle felt glorious.


	4. REM Sleep

_REM sleep_

_Enjoy your stay_

She was sitting in the kitchen of her house. Only it wasn't the kitchen she currently had - there was food in this one, pictures on the refrigerator. There was even a drawing that she remembered doing one night when she had been having trouble sleeping. She had been six years old.

Jenny didn't remember much about what had happened, apart from putting the needle in her arm. She had expected horrific nightmares, like those she had experienced at the hands of her tormentors. She hadn't expected this kitchen, or the summer dress she now wore. Things seemed strange here, not at all like what she had thought. There was the relief in her gut, the joy at having satisfied the animal crawling around in there. But there was this tingle running through her skin.

The man she had gone to see had told her that tailoring the drug would be different. That she could affect the world she was in, be a proper part of it. Part of Jenny was tempted to bend the spoon in front of her, see if it actually worked. Part of her was tempted to spin the magnets round on the refrigerator. Jenny was more concerned with eating; she had such an appetite at that moment.

Turning around in the wooden kitchen chair, Jenny took the spoon and started eating the apple pie in front of her. She could get used to this.

After eating the pie, Jenny decided to explore the world she was in. Spinning around, she changed the colour of her dress to a nice yellow. It matched her mood, feeling happier than she had in ages. She walked out of the kitchen door and into hallways that were exactly like those of her Grandfather's London estate. Rich wood, possibilities of secret passageways.

She opened one door. It was a broom cupboard. _How __disappointing_.

Jenny never gave up, and she was determined to find out more about where she was. This was so different to what she had been expecting, and she was enjoying it. There was another door at the end of the corridor, and she pushed her hand against the wood. She stumbled into the room and immediately stopped half way in.

"I'm sorry!"

The two figures in the room didn't notice her. Jenny licked her lips and leant against the doorframe and just watched. She was actually _in _one of her memories. The small attic room in Marseille was just as she remembered; the heat was stifling as she rested just inside the doorway.

Watching her and Jethro make love for the first time was…unique. The sight made her realise that they had both got older, even looked older. Jethro still looked damn good though, although he had dropped a little muscle. He was on top for their first time, pinning her hands to the pillows. She concentrated on Jethro, not wanting to watch herself. His face as she enveloped him was glorious. The look of pure ecstasy as she made him come made Jenny feel humbled. She had watched him before, but not like this. He really did…

"Never thought of you as a voyeur, Jen."

Her red curls came tumbling over her shoulder and the door slammed shut behind her as she turned to face Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Not a memory, a fantasy or a figment. He was the real deal.

Jethro knew going into whatever dream world the drug created was going to be weird, but he had truly not imagined anything _close_to this! After walking around for what seemed like hours, he had finally found Jenny. And what a sight she was.

The last time he had seen Jenny conscious, she had been pale, gaunt. Starving, her suits just hung off of her. Her hair had been limp, her skin brittle. But this Jenny was vibrant, beautiful. Her hair was back to the length he remembered, as curly as it had ever been. The summer dress she wore showed off tan legs, full breasts.

"God you're beautiful," Jethro exhaled, the words the only thing his brain could focus on.

Jenny grinned at his remark and threw her arms around his neck. He clung back to her, holding onto her. He smelled so good, and her hands clutched at his shirt. Jethro was in this place with her.

"You're here!"

Jethro smiled faintly and clutched her face between his hands. He stroked her cheeks. "Jen, do you know where you are?"

Oh she wanted to head slap him. But this was not the time for it, not when there was so much to explore! So she just grabbed his hand and led him up the next hallway. As she led him along, she kept turning back to him.

"I'm in my own dreams…I took some of the drug that they…who knew, right?" Jenny turned around to face him. "Isn't this incredible? Think of how long it'll take to explore…all the memories, all the knowledge. All that I can create."

To illustrate that point, the spot that Jenny stood on sprouted a staircase. She watched with an eager face as the stairs linked to a second floor that wasn't there a few moments ago. Taking off her heels, Jenny sunk her feet into the rich carpet that covered the stairs. She twirled on the stairs until she lost her balance and Jethro had to catch her.

"Jenny…" He righted her on her feet. "Jen, do you realise what's happening to you? You overdosed on that damn drug!"

The stairs they were standing on collapsed underneath their feet.

After stirring from the fall and picking himself up off the floor, Jethro looked up to try and see how Jenny was. She wasn't there. He looked around for her, trying to see if he could spot the redhead. He chased down one corridor, calling out for her.

This entire world was Jenny's mind. She could control it, lock him out, disappear if she wanted to. He just decided to keep walking and see if he could find Jenny to talk to her about what was going on. He needed to make her understand that she was overdosing on this drug and although it was _incredible,_it was killing her. Jethro wasn't altogether sure if he could pull her out of the dream world, but this drug wasn't a normal one. If he could reach her, make her understand that she had something to hold onto back in the real world, then everything would be okay.

"Are you busy?"

Jethro was disturbed by his thoughts by a small voice to the left of him. He turned to see a young girl, probably five or six, standing in front of a bedroom door. She was holding on to a small stuffed rabbit, and her expression was one of almost hope. Jethro went down on one knee and turned to the small girl.

"Hey sweetheart, have you seen a redhead around here?" Jethro raised his hand. "Very tall, very pretty?"

The little girl smiled but shook her head. "Jenny's mad at you."

Jethro's brow knotted. "Why is Jenny mad at me?"

The young girl shook her head, tossing her red hair over her face. Jethro moved the hair out of her eyes and was met by a pair of very familiar green eyes. He had never seen pictures of Jenny as a child, but this was surely her. His lover's memories would not be limited to the recent; they would be all over the place. The idea of getting to know Jenny better than he had ever made him want to stay just that little bit longer.

"Are you busy?"

Jethro frowned again. "Why?"

The child Jenny shrugged. "I just want someone to play with me."

Jethro followed the younger version of Jenny into her bedroom. It was blue, which surprised him for some reason. There was an elegant four poster bed in the corner with masses of pillows and stuffed animals residing on it. A large bookcase filled with different fairy tales from all parts of the world was on the wall of the door. Jethro watched as the tiny Jenny ran to the corner where an elegant dollhouse stood. It was probably as large as her four poster bed, and seemed to be a mansion for her dolls.

"Did your Daddy make this?" Jethro asked as he sat cross legged on the floor. He didn't know much about Jasper Shepard other than he was tied up with an arms dealer and had ruined Jenny's life.

The young Jenny nodded eagerly, her red hair bouncing up and down on her shoulders. She was an excitable little thing. "He made it for me, and then Mommy did all the decorations. The curtains are all fabric from our house!"

Jethro grinned. He would have loved to have made something like this for Kelly. "Well it's beautiful. So, what are we going to play?"

Tiny Jenny bit her lip, an expression he knew all too well from the older version of her. "I don't know. No one's ever played with me before."

"Not your Mom, or your Dad?" Jethro asked as he looked at the small girl. She seemed so alone. Another expression he knew all too well.

Jenny shook her head again, clinging on tight to the stuffed rabbit she held in her arms. "Mommy…she's always talking to her friends. She tells me to play with the other children, but they tease me."

"Why do they tease you?"

Tiny Jenny bit her lip again. "Because I can speak Italian and French. They don't like it. One of them, they think I talk like the Devil. I don't like them very much. And Daddy's at war."

Jethro knew all about that. He resisted the urge to hug the small version of the woman he loved, even though it appeared that she needed it. He just squeezed her nose between his fingers, making her giggle. Her eyes were so big and green. Hopeful. He hadn't seen that hope in quite some time.

He looked over the dollhouse, righted some of the furniture. "So why is Jenny mad at me?"

The younger version of Jenny wrinkled her nose as she started undressing one of her dolls to put her in a business suit. "You didn't come for her."

Jethro resisted the urge to yell at the small child, knowing she probably got shouted at enough by her mother. He just handed her the jacket to put on the redheaded doll. It looked like a doll version of Jenny. Very, very weird place. "But I'm here. I came for her."

Jenny shook her head, wise and all knowing like her older counterpart. She seemed to be crying for some reason. "You didn't come for her in time."

Jethro was about to respond when a door across the hall slammed shut. He looked upwards to see that the door was one of Jenny's doors from home. Jethro stood up in an attempt to go and investigate it, but tiny Jenny gripped his hand. "Don't go."

"I have to go find Jenny, little one. Gotta make sure she's okay," Jethro tried to explain. He looked towards the door again, getting a bad feeling from it. "Do you know what's behind that door?"

Tiny Jenny didn't even look upset as a tear dropped down her cheek. "We're not allowed in there."

He nodded and squeezed the young girl's nose again. "I'll be back to play dolls soon, I promise."

Jethro gathered himself together and headed out of young Jenny's bedroom. He just got to the door when he heard her voice linger behind him. "You _always _promise."

Resisting once again the urge to argue with a small child, Jethro stepped out of her bedroom and watched as the door shut behind him. Weird place. He started his quest for Jenny again, wondering where she would be. He could feel the tingle in his veins, the drug making him feel on the edge of something. A knife edge.

He tried the door that had slammed shut, but couldn't get it to open. Jethro tried to force it but no luck. Sighing to himself, Jethro decided it would be best to just carry on and search through the rooms for Jenny. He eventually came to another door and opened it.

It was the NCIS lift. No button on the outside, just the doorknob. Jethro shrugged and decided to get on.

There was no doubt it was the lift he spent so much time in. Was a little creepy to be standing in it now. There were no destination buttons on the side, just the emergency stop button which Jethro did _not_want to push for the first time in his career at NCIS. He exhaled and leant against one of the walls as the elevator started to move upwards. What he would find on the floor where it landed was beyond him.

He was trying not to see this as exciting and as an adventure. This was dangerous. He only had so much time to find Jenny and persuade her to fight the overdose.

The doors of the elevator opened and Jethro was about to get off but a version of him walked into the elevator and Jenny materialised next to him. They didn't even acknowledge him as they got on, which was strange. Jethro guessed that some memories were locked, fixed points. Some memories could be interacted with.

He remembered this particular incident in the elevator as it stopped again and a small mousy brunette got on. It was during the time where McGee had been accused of shooting a Metro officer. He and Jenny had fought like cat and dog in that elevator, and they had gone off in a huff. As the elevator stopped again and the brunette got off, Jethro watched to see what happened.

The argument played out like it had done in his memory, but just before he remembered the doors opening and Jenny's request for him to go to the nearest Borders, she pressed the emergency stop button. The elevator jolted and Jenny pressed himself - the memory self - up against the wall. Her lips were on his in a matter of seconds, her hand squeezing his crotch soon after.

Jethro tried to keep out of the way, although he couldn't help but watch. This _definitely _hadn't happened. Although he wished it had, especially as his memory self peeled off Jenny's coat and blouse and started squeezing her breasts. He pressed the back of his head against the lift, getting intoxicated by the sight. Was arousing, sort of like what watching your own sex tape would be like.

The drug probably also wasn't helping, that stuff was lethal. Jethro could see why it had overtaken some of the others as commercial narcotics. Expensive, but a fucking _rush._

Just as he felt he needed to relieve himself, the lift doors opened and Jethro fell straight to the floor. He looked up to see Jenny - his Jenny - standing in front of him. The yellow summer dress had changed into a pair of slim jeans and a very thin cream shirt. He could see her black brassiere through the fabric.

"Having fun, were we?"

Jenny Shepard looked over Jethro and then looked up to the fantasy she often had about them having sex in the lift. She blushed as Jethro stood up, putting himself right. He looked good. She had been worried about him. She shouldn't have taken off when the staircase had collapsed, but she needed to think.

"This place," Jethro whispered. "All your memories, all your thoughts, all your fantasies." He stroked her face. "Everything in your head is in here."

"Everything," she grinned. "Come on."

She took his hand and grinned as his other gripped onto her waist. He wasn't letting her out of his sight. She appreciated that. But she had made up her mind now she understood what Jethro was saying. She had taken too much of the drug. Was probably true, every cell in her body felt like it was dying and being reborn at the same time. But inside her own mind was safe. There was no danger, no responsibility. She could ignore the bad things, revisit the good things.

And Jethro was here, beside her. She could do anything.

"Jen, we need to talk," Jethro started to say against her skin. "We need to talk about the drug."

She turned around to him, pressed her hips against his. She was craving pie again. A door she hit soon better be the kitchen! But she was craving something else too. She wondered what sex was like in this dream world. Wondered how it would feel to be touched.

"Can we explore a bit more, please?"

Jethro was intrigued by exploring a bit more of Jenny. So he nodded just to make her smile. "Pick a door."

She ran down a corridor, stopping at a door. Jethro noticed she was bare foot. When he was by her side, Jenny finally got up the courage to open the door and see what was inside. He followed her as she went through.

It was a large High School swimming pool. Jenny looked around, trying to place the memory. Swim meet, senior year. There were crowds of people in the stadium, no one noticed two more. Jenny watched as she found herself amongst the swimmers waiting to go. She remembered that feeling of terror in her gut, wondering if she would screw up and lose for her team.

"Where are we?" Jethro whispered in her ear.

"Senior year. Come on."

She took his hand and they walked down the stands until they reached the front row. Jenny could see her mother there with Jenny's younger sister on her lap, hypnotised by her water. Down the row, looking at his former wife and youngest daughter was her father. With a simple thought Jenny erased everyone in the stadium apart from her family, her and Jethro. And of course her younger self. She could still hear the sounds of the crowd as her teenage self dived into the cool water, but she just wanted to feel apart from it all.

She turned to Jethro as he watched her win the meet, pulling herself out of the water and into the imaginary arms of her team mates. But that moment was short lived, and soon Jenny was on her own again by the edge of the water.

"Where did your parents go?" Jethro asked as he realised that it was only him and the two Jenny's in the room now.

He watched a tear slip down Jenny's face. "They had an argument and had to be escorted out of the pool. They never saw me win."

Jethro sighed and gripped her hand. He put an arm around her, focussing on the water. This room felt so cold. So cavernous. It took him a few moments to realise that Jenny was kissing his neck, moving up to put his earlobe between her lips.

"Jenny…"

She looked up at him. "You're interested, Jethro. By what it would be like, here. Life is an experiment, Jethro. Let's experiment."

The rest of the crowd had returned to the poolside. Still, no one could see them. He was intrigued by the voyeurism that the dream world presented, but he was not going to make love to Jenny in a pool, especially not in front of all those people. He told her so, and she smiled.

"That's not a problem."

There was a huge clock overlooking the pool, right next to large glass windows bringing sun into the room. Jenny used her hands to spin the clock around on its axis. She grinned as she watched the movement of the sun in the big windows, watched as it moved into the night. She could hear the movement of people behind her, and turned around just as the clock hit midnight to find the room only lit by the moon and Jethro the only person in the stands.

She was interested in just _how_much she could influence her surroundings.

Jethro looked around in wonder, smiling. He then turned to Jenny and saw her in a gorgeous blood red bikini. It showed off her legs, showed off her breasts. He found himself growing harder and harder with each passing step. It was then that he looked down to find himself only in a pair of swimming trunks.

"Jenny!"

She giggled by the steps of the pool. There was no one to disturb them, no one to give them any guidance about what they could or could not do. It was just the two of them together in a world that was perfect. Why couldn't he see that it was all perfect?

"Could have been worse, Jethro. Could have made you naked."

He snorted before groaning as Jenny went behind the back of her neck to loosen the straps on her bikini top. She let it float to the floor, the flimsy bit of fabric almost disappearing into nothing. Jethro watched with dark eyes as Jenny slid into the water, keeping her eyes on him.

He was only a man.

Jenny grinned as Jethro moved into the water with her, swimming a few strokes over to see her. They danced around each other in the pool before Jenny moved away, swimming a few strokes to get some distance. She was teasing him.

"Water's warm."

She smiled. "I can make it any temperature I want. Can make the sun come up, make the sun go down. Can create anything I want. Can make anything change, disappear. Like your clothes."

Jethro looked down experimentally and found he was now naked in the water. He just laughed and watched as Jenny pulled off the bottoms of her bikini and tossed them to him. It had been so long since they had been like this. Teasing, laughing. In love with no responsibility but to each other.

"You gonna come and get me, Jethro?" Jenny asked, moving closer to the pools edge.

"Better believe it, Shepard."

He swum over to her, backing her into the corner of the pool. Jethro eventually pinned her to the cold tile of the swimming pool, his hands moving over her wet skin and planting his mouth on hers. The kiss was dangerous, rough. Jenny's hands ripped at his hair, tore at his skin. His own moved her legs up around him, before digging tight into her soaked red curls.

"You…" Jenny whispered as Jethro slid inside her. "God, Jethro."

He pushed deeper inside her, liking the way this felt. Every sense was enhanced, everything was in full colour. Every time Jenny moved against him it felt like fire in his gut. He had been on a knife edge for a while. He was too close. Jethro had a feeling that this was almost going to hurt.

Jenny whimpered as Jethro kept brushing against her body. Her skin was too warm, too slick as Jethro kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her in his own way of trying to find a release of the almost pleasure/pain conundrum this dream world had to it. His pace was becoming quicker, her nails were digging into his shoulder blades. She wanted all of him. She needed all of him.

"I love you," Jethro groaned in her ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. She moaned in response, needing his fingers places that they weren't.

Her fingers moved down to his ass while his moved between her legs, stroking her. She started to black out from the pleasure. "I…I love you," Jenny choked out as she came.

Both of them lost control, both of them sunk into the water - lost in the other.

After they had both come, Jethro turned over onto the bed sheets and grinned. Then he faltered as he realised they had moved from the pool and were now in the bed they had shared in Paris. The sheets were cream silk, the window showed the same skyline. They were covered in sweat not chlorine, but both were sated beyond belief.

"Well…that was something," Jethro stated, turning to his lover.

Jenny was lying on the sheets, one of them up over her breasts. She was laughing, and he joined in. Weird, weird place they were in. But incredible. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, hopefully showing his love in a single kiss. Jenny raised herself up on her elbow and stroked his face. He hadn't seen such happiness in her eyes since Paris.

"You're so beautiful," Jethro announced, stroking her hair. "So incredible. Now come here."

He grabbed her around the waist and brought her over onto his side of the bed, pushing the sheets over their heads as he kissed her again. The laughter was almost too loud in the quiet of the Paris apartment. Then the noise from outside began, the filter of what Paris sounded like coming into the room.

After kissing for a few minutes, Jenny poked her head out from under the sheet and rested it on Jethro's chest. She felt so happy here, so at peace. Nothing was expected of her, all she could have was Jethro. All she wanted was him.

"You know, we could stay here forever."

Jethro looked down at her, tilting her chin up. "What?"

She smiled, taking his fingers into her mouth. "You and me, here. Why not? Isn't this perfect? Just you and me, anything we want, anywhere we want to go?"

Jethro sat up under the sheets, resting his elbows over his knees. "Jenny…this place isn't real. It's all fictional. All in your head."

She looked away from him, not wanting him to see the tears. She pulled the sheets around her body, watched as the Parisian bedroom they were in crumbled until they were back in one of the corridors of the house. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans and one of her Oxford shirts. He was wearing his work uniform - polo shirt and a jacket. She had backed herself up against a wall again, trying hard to get away from him.

"You don't want this." The unspoken words _you __don't __want __me _hung in the air.

Jethro ran a hand through his silver hair. "Jenny, it's not that. This world will end, sooner than you think. The drug you took will only last for so long and then you will die. We don't know all the specifics, dammit, but overdosing means overdosing!"

She crumpled against the wall, a corridor forming behind her almost instantly. Jethro walked forward, trying to get a hold of her but a glass wall sprung up between them. He banged his fists on them, but the cracks instantly repaired themselves. He pressed his hands against the glass, wanting to see Jenny. She was still standing there, she hadn't run from him.

"Jenny, please. Don't keep putting barriers between us; it's not doing us any good."

She snorted. "What does it matter, Jethro? What does that world matter? It hurts there. Everything hurts there."

He nodded, resting his forehead against the glass. "I know, I know. What happened with those men was disgusting, terrifying. But I am here for you, Jenny. I am here for you."

She shook her head and walked backwards, away from the glass. "You're never here. You're never there. _FOUR __DAYS __I __WAS __THERE. _Four days and you never came."

Jethro banged his fists on the glass. "I tried. I had to find you first. I didn't sleep looking for you Jenny, I needed to find you. I love you, that wasn't a lie."

"We are."

The glass turned to brick as Jenny turned away and headed down another corridor. She didn't want to talk to him; she didn't even want to see him. She must have left a little in the syringe, that was how Jethro must have followed her through. That was how he did it. He wouldn't be here for much longer anyway, then he would be gone and she could be left alone. Left with people who cared, left with people who would be there for her no matter what.

Who didn't run when she needed them most.

Sighing, Jenny opened a door. She was getting her bearings, could sometimes tell by the doors what sort of room she was going into. Sometimes she could even control which room she was stepping in to in the first place. This one was a small door, one from a café she had walked past every day in Paris. As she opened it, she was on a street in the French capital, watching her and Jethro walk down the street playing the role of a married couple.

She resisted the urge to destroy the happy scene in front of her.

"Could I have a pot of tea, please? And a large slice of cake," Jenny said to the active waiter who took her order. She needed to calm down.

Eventually the tea and cake came and Jenny indulged in both as well as tortured herself with the sight of her and Jethro's past selves walking down the street in Paris. She wasn't bitter. Not much. Jenny just felt herself cry. Maybe it was her own fault. It probably was. That was why they had left her alone in such a dark place for four days, as a lesson for her messing with their lives in her quest for the Frog.

The landscape changed from the small café to a dark, dingy bar in Naples, her assignment after she had left Jethro. She was sure she would end up watching herself pick up another man, but that wouldn't help. Jenny already knew she was in love with Jethro, that he was the love of her life. Punishing herself by instant replays wouldn't help her state of mind, wouldn't help the ache she felt.

"Bourbon?"

The voice of the bartender looked familiar, and Jenny looked up to see that Jethro was there, handing her a glass. She continued to look surprised. "You're not the only one who can play around."

"How…how did you find me?"

"One of your younger versions gave me directions. Where is this?" Jethro asked. She was about to respond when they both noticed a younger version of Jenny being pinned to the wall by a slimy business man. "I take it this scene is from our six years apart."

She nodded. "How long have you got with me, Jethro?"

He banged his head against the bar. "Jenny, I can have forever with you. Just, _please._Fight the drug in your system and come back with me. We can spend the rest of our lives together, like we planned. Like I want, more than anything."

Jenny shook her head. "I can't go back, Jethro. It hurts too much. I hurt you, you hurt me. It's not healthy."

"Like this place is."

She pushed away from the bar and walked out of it, back down another corridor in her grandfather's house. The temperature was suddenly freezing in the house. She could hear Jethro's footsteps behind her, but she didn't want to face him. She didn't have a choice as he spun her back against the door.

"Talk to me. Stop bottling everything up and running away from everything," Jethro declared.

Jenny pushed him back, hands smacking against his chest. "You're one to talk. Mexico ring any bells? You've always been running from me, from us. The only difference is that I do it literally!"

"If you've got something to say to me, then say it!" Jethro sunk his fist through the wall next to Jenny. "Dammit Jenny, you are _dying_. If you don't fight, if I have to bury someone else I love then I can't…I just can't, Jen. So please don't leave me with more guilt and more 'what ifs'. _Talk_."

She nodded and moved to the door next to them. Jenny pushed the door open, Jethro following her. It was only when she heard the muffled groans that she looked up to realise what the scene was. Jethro was looking at it with wide eyes, growling at the scene before them.

Jenny had forgotten about the time - whilst her lover had been in Mexico - that she had fantasised about having Tony DiNozzo in her office.

Jethro shut the door as quickly as he could, pulling Jenny outside. He exhaled, trying to get a focus on what he had just witnessed. This place was weird, thoughtless. There was only one question he needed to ask, knowing that despite both answers making him want to throw up he needed to know.

"Memory or fantasy?"

Jenny rested her head against the door, which disappeared and became a wall. "What would you say if it was a memory, Jethro?"

He rested his head against the wall on the other side of the corridor. He was physically hurt by what was inside that room; Jenny could see it in his face. She wanted to reach out and try to explain, but she knew that what had occurred in this dream world was far beyond simple comfort now.

"I would say that you couldn't have found a way to hurt me more, Jenny," Jethro whispered. "_Please _say it's merely a fantasy; _please __say __you __never __let __him __touch __you."_

Jenny closed her eyes, exhaling. "One time fantasy, Jethro. Nothing…nothing more. You…you're all…"

When she opened her eyes, they weren't in the corridor. They were back in the kitchen of her grandfather's house where she had started her journey. Jethro was sitting at the table, a cup of his coffee in front of him. Jenny went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pie. She cut a slice for Jethro and handed one to him, and then kept one for herself.

"Maybe it's a good thing."

"What is?" Jethro whispered as his fork toyed with his first mouthful of pie.

Jenny put a lock of hair behind her ear. "Dying. Here. I can revisit any memory, create any life. For the last few hours, days, weeks…I could have the life I want."

"You can have that with me, Jen," Jethro said over his coffee. "Jenny, please. Why do you want to stay locked up in this house? Why can't you let go of the past?"

She looked him square in the eye. "Can you, Jethro? If we were in your head right now, would I be watching Shannon and Kelly?"

Jethro looked down at his mug of coffee, not sure what to say. He could see in Jenny's eyes that still something was wrong, there was still something she couldn't say, couldn't admit to. There was something in this house that scared her, which he didn't understand.

He stood up and looked out of the window. The effects of the drug were lessening. He could feel the tingle over his skin less and less. He was running out of time to save Jenny, he understood that. He couldn't let her go, not like this. Jethro needed to make her realise that he would always be there if she wanted him to be. Hell, even if she didn't want him to be.

"Jen…"

Jethro turned back to the kitchen and found his Jenny missing. Instead, the tiny counterpart was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. He knew that expression - she was mad at him. He looked over her and stepped forward to talk to the little girl.

"You said you'd play with me."

He sighed. "Listen, little Jenny, I need to find your older self. We're running out of time, okay? I need to find her to rescue her."

Those big green eyes narrowed. "You have to play. You _promised_."

"I don't have time for this, okay?"

Jethro brushed past the tiny girl and started to head down the corridor. Behind him he could hear the small girl burst into tears. Turning around, Jethro sighed. He didn't have time to deal with a six year old Jenny Shepard. He had to deal with the stubborn older version that he loved. Looking back at the little girl, he groaned. He felt bad that he had made her cry.

"Look, I promise I'll play after I find Jenny, okay?" Jethro tried to reassure the little girl. "I promise."

The little girl, the younger version of Jenny, just shook her head. Those big green eyes were full of tears. It was then that Jethro realised she was wearing pyjamas, clinging on to that rabbit like it was a lifeline.

"Promises don't mean anything," Jenny whispered. "Everyone leaves. Everyone leaves me."

Jethro followed her eye line for a moment and looked towards the end of the corridor. It was the same door from earlier, the door from Jenny's house. Considering this was Jenny's mind, he had only seen one door from her current home. That was the only one. He took a step towards it but the little Jenny gripped his hand, clinging on to him.

"What's in there?" Jethro asked, pointing towards the door.

The teenage version of Jenny came out of the door across the hall and put her hands on her younger self. She looked fearful towards the door, her mouth trembling as she looked over the simple piece of wood. The young Jenny had buried her face inside her teenage self's coat.

"We're not allowed to go in there," the teenage Jenny told him. "Jenny told us we're not allowed to."

Jethro turned towards the door just as the sound of a gunshot rang out. He turned to the two girls, who were now both crying without appearing to notice. He had a feeling he knew what was behind that door. He started to move forward down the corridor. Halfway, he turned back to see that the two younger versions of Jenny had disappeared. Even the other doors had started to disappear.

As another gunshot rang out, Jethro started to run down the corridor. It seemed to get longer the more he ran, but he kept running. The door was the key. The door was the key.

Eventually he got in front of the door and looked at it. So familiar, he was sure he and Jenny had kissed up against it. He had waited behind it the night Jenny had shot the Frog. His hand moved to the doorknob, hesitating there for a moment. After another gunshot rang out, Jethro opened the door into the memory.

The room was Jenny's study, previously her father's. Jethro watched as the man he recognised as Jasper Shepard stood at his desk, weighing his service weapon in his hand. The man looked towards the picture of his eldest daughter placed on his desk before turning his gun next to his temple. Jethro winced as he watched Jasper Shepard pull the trigger.

He then heard running, and turned to see a younger version of Jenny come rushing in with a happy smile on her face. It faltered as she looked at her father. She started to scream, to cry. Those big green eyes again full of tears. That red hair looking like the colour of blood over her father's desk. How long had she scrubbed to get that out of the wood?

"Daddy wake up, Daddy please wake up!"

Jethro couldn't bear to watch as the younger version of Jenny, only a year before they met, backed away from her father's body and wept against the curtains.

Suddenly the scene reversed itself as if it was on a constant loop. This time Jasper wasn't alone in his study, Rene Benoit was with him, standing beside him. They were fighting, the words barely audible to him. Someone had hit the mute button. But still the outcome was the same, and Jasper Shepard ended up with a bullet in his brain as a gloved Rene shot Jasper in the head. The gun was still left by his side.

Jethro watched again as Jenny came rushing in with good news to tell her father - he could hear the door slam almost coincide with the gunshot. Benoit left the room just as Jenny entered. And it was a repeated scene. Jenny rushing over to her father, screaming.

"Daddy wake up, Daddy please wake up!"

He couldn't take it anymore.

Jethro turned around and realised that _his_Jenny was watching the scene with him. She was in tears, that childlike innocence still in her face. She licked her lips before she looked up at him. "As a child, I used to get nightmares all the time. Used to dream that my father never came back. My Grandfather told me that he would, that no matter what he would. I remember him saying to me: 'If you're ever scared, pinch yourself and you'll wake up. And your Daddy will come running.'"

"Jenny…"

She looked up at Jethro, her eyes full of tears. "I'm a big girl, Jethro. I've been in plenty of dangerous situations before. Been shot, stabbed, blown up…tortured." She sighed. "Over the years, and over this I've learnt to stand on my own. Not ask anyone for help. Thought they wouldn't understand. But when I was in that room, Jethro. All my nightmares…do you have any idea how many times I called your name, wanting you to save me? I couldn't save myself, I _needed _you. I couldn't wake up; I needed you to wake me up."

Jethro reached over and kissed Jenny on her forehead. He clung to her face, wanting to brush away the tears. Wanting to comfort her more than anything.

"I'm here, Jen," Jethro whispered in her ear. "If those men had killed you, my team would have never found their bodies. I am so sorry I couldn't get there in time for you," he trembled against her cheek, keeping his eyes on hers. "But I'm here now. I'm here to wake you up, Jen. I'm here to wake you up now, and from every nightmare you ever have."

Jenny smiled weakly against his hands. "Jethro, I'm so scared."

"What are you scared about?"

She laughed sadly. "Living."

He shrugged, still keeping his hands on her. "It's okay, there's nothing too scary about it. Just gotta take the leap, take the jump. Need to close the door on the past, Jen. He's not coming back, you know that. Killing Benoit didn't change that; all it changed is it gave you the chance to move on, move on and have a life."

Jenny nodded. Jethro looked up and saw that the house they had been in was slowly melting away. The doors were disappearing. The tingle over his skin was too, he was fast running out of time.

"Jenny, don't do what I did. I killed the man who took my wife and child away from me and it didn't help. I never grieved them, I just tried to move on and it didn't work. But I'm ready now. I'm ready to be with you, make a life with you. Because I'm ready to close that door. I don't want to revisit that moment anymore."

She nodded, and Jethro could see the smile appearing on her face. It was working. Not long before the end now. The house was breaking apart; the door in front of them was gone. Suddenly they were in the foyer of the old house, it being the only room left standing. The amount of light blocked Jethro from seeing anything else that was going on in the house.

The front door was there. They hadn't stepped outside yet - the simplest way to exit this world. He could see the light behind it and hoped it wasn't a fucking tunnel. Jethro put his hand on the doorknob, and he watched as Jenny followed suit.

"Jethro."

"Yeah?"

He watched Jenny smile. "I love you."

He chuckled. "I love you too."

She reached over and pushed her arm around his neck, pulling him down for a piercing kiss. Jethro pressed against her as tight as he could. Neither one of them knew what was going to happen next. Neither of them knew what would be behind that door. As Jenny pressed closer, he could taste her tears. Eventually, just as he felt the last tingle move over his skin, Jethro pulled back.

Jenny blew him a kiss as they both clung to that door handle. "I love you so much, so much."

He could feel the tears move over his own cheeks. "See you on the other side."

They both held that gaze - that final gaze - for one second more. Then they opened the door.


	5. Sleep Tight

_Sleep Tight_

Leroy Jethro Gibbs pulled off his polo shirt and dropped it to the floor. He pinched the bridge of his nose - it had been a _very _long day. He then undid his belt and dropped his trousers to the floor. He found a clean pair of boxers and slipped those on, before putting a NCIS t-shirt over his head. The cotton felt good against his skin.

Yawning, Jethro walked over to where his boat stood. He wasn't going to get any sanding done tonight, but that was okay. He had other things to occupy him in his basement that night.

"We gonna see if it works today?" Jethro asked the figure lying on the mattress.

The redhead looked up from her spot on the floor and nodded. "Let's give it a go."

Jethro joined Jenny Shepard on the mattress. She liked it in his basement, liked the smell of sawdust and bourbon. It reminded her of him, and it seemed to lull her in a way that could make her sleep properly.

He joined Jenny under the thick duvet they had brought down so they could sleep in the basement. She was looking better, healthier. Her hair had grown back out, the blonde having been outgrown and replaced by that fiery red. Long nights with Abby and Tony had helped Jenny put the weight back on. But she still hadn't slept since that night.

Jethro moved behind Jenny's back, pressing up against his cold lover. She sighed at his warmth, and Jethro shuffled closer. One hand reached over and held hers on the expanse of mattress next to her head. He ran his fingers over her skin, stroked over her palm, wrote words in the inside of her wrist. He could feel her calm, could feel her breathing become more languid.

Most nights they tried to fall asleep together but Jenny couldn't. They made love on the mattress, before Jethro fell asleep in Jenny's arms, lulled by her soothing presence. But he wanted tonight to be different. He wanted tonight to be something different.

"We could count sheep," Jethro whispered. "Or head slaps. Little cups of coffee."

He felt Jenny snort next to him. "That's to help _you _sleep. Not me."

Jethro couldn't help but grin at that. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, moving in even closer to her. He could feel her relax against him; Jethro could see that she was trying to keep her eyes closed. In the quiet of the basement, he heard her whisper: "Tell me again."

Same words, every night. "I love you, Jenny. And I will be here to wake you up. I will _always_ be here to wake you up."

Even after saying those words night on night, Jenny had never fallen asleep. Sighing, Jethro pinched the bridge of his nose again. They were finally together, they were finally happy. They had finally _both _put the past behind them and were even focussing on a future. As he relaxed, thinking about the plans they had in store, he noticed that he could hear soft breathing on the other side of the mattress.

Jenny had fallen asleep. Soft, soft breathing against the pillows. Her eyelids were calm, her face serene, even happy. She looked beautiful.

Jethro kissed her on the temple before nuzzling her gently. She was asleep. _Finally_.

He looked up to the ceiling before turning to his own arm. Taking two of his fingers, he pinched himself gently to make sure he was awake. Every morning, every night before he went to bed. He wanted to be sure that he wasn't dreaming, that he still wasn't lost in Jenny's perfect world. Not that it made any difference now. He couldn't care less what world this was.

The room was often too cold to feel anything from his fingers.

Jethro moved over to Jenny, holding her close. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, smiled at the soft exhale of her breath. She seemed so peaceful, so beautiful. He had always loved watching her sleep; it was a guilty pleasure of his. Now it seemed like he was going to get his chance for the first time in a long while. He was finally getting to be with Jenny after so much fighting, so much heartache.

He should sleep himself, though. Had a tough case, would no doubt get woken up by Jenny trying to steal the covers. Jethro pressed his mouth to Jenny's neck before turning to his pillow, trying to calm his own mind.

"One coffee cup," Jethro whispered. "Two coffee cups…"

Then Jenny elbowed him in the ribs.

He _felt _that.

"Shut up I'm trying to sleep."

Jethro pinched Jenny's arm in revenge, and she turned back to pinch one of his nipples. They kept going back in forth, until their laughter tired them both out and they laid together against their pillows, both of them no longer afraid of their nightmares.

Both of them no longer afraid of waking up.


End file.
